


When Blood is Spilt, Water May Suffice

by Grim Reaper Cultist (DeletedBecauseShy)



Series: The E. Carter Series [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Needles, Original Character(s), Poisoning, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 17,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeletedBecauseShy/pseuds/Grim%20Reaper%20Cultist
Summary: E Carter, orphaned before their first birthday, lives a fairly normal life with their aunt Amanda. Besides seeing men and women fly over the rooftops.___When a young child is saved and brought to the Reaper Realm temporarily, they begin to see those who shouldn’t be seen.
Relationships: Alan Humphries/Eric Slingby, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The E. Carter Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946695
Comments: 15
Kudos: 15





	1. Saved by the Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a new multi-chapter. No, my others have not ended. Yes, this is a bad idea.

William has conflicting thoughts about what he is about to do. Even if it isn’t against any rules, he’s read them all, it doesn’t feel right to interfere like this. He wants to move the infant to a safer place, it’s the right thing to do. But, why? 

Why should the little child in front of him be saved when countless others weren’t? 

Why was it even part of life that someone so young could die? 

The small child was sat just outside of the ever-growing puddle of blood. He didn’t think when he finally moved, sweeping the child up into his arms. It snuggled into his jacket when he did so, falling asleep quickly after. 

He could only guess that the screams had woken them up earlier. Screams that had long since ended as the blood on the floor continued to spread. 

The journey back into the Reaper Realm is a long one for William. His arms move in a swaying motion to keep the child in his arms asleep and silent. 

His keys jingle in his hands when he searches for the correct one. The small, bronze trinket that is the only of its kind. Although he swore to never open the records room without a reason, he would fight tooth and nail to convince anyone who questioned him that the child in his arms was a proper reason. 

The door slides open quietly, barely dragging against the floor. He looks back to his list, double-checking the name of the couple he had reaped mere minutes ago. 

Carter. 

Good, he wouldn’t need to go far into the room. The single room contained the files of every human, alive and dead, the London division was responsible for. It went on for longer than it should’ve, the single room was as long as the entire building and then some. 

Still, he wasn’t there to discover its secrets. He just needed a name. 

His heels clicked down the echoing halls with each step. It would be easy to find the files he needed. They would be the first black file under the name Carter. Both would be blood red, though if he had looked earlier they would have been a lively shade of white. 

There, the two files were adjacent, just as they should be. Organised by last name, then time of death. Emily Carter and Alexander Carter. He opened the woman’s file first. 

All he needed was a living relative, some of the only information the records couldn’t give him. Unfortunately, Emily had been the only sibling to survive childhood. Her parents joining her brothers and sisters over 10 years ago. He also checked for a name, the records had never shown them addressing the boy. 

He prayed to whoever would listen that Alexander wasn’t in the same situation. That the man had a living relative somewhere in the world. His eyes roamed over the file, catching on a mention of a sister. A sister who was very much still alive and living in south London. His luck came to an end when he once again didn’t find a name for the boy. They hadn’t decided before they died it seemed. 

He rushed back into his office with the baby swaddled in his suit jacket. The boy had begun to shiver in the records room and William had plenty of other suit jackets. He could lose one on the job. 

The note was written quickly and barely legible. Addressed to Amanda Carter and tucked into the pocket of his suit jacket before he laid the baby down gently on the doorstep and knocked loudly on the door. 

-+=-=+-

‘Dear Amanda Carter,

I regret to inform you that your brother, Alexander Carter, died in a carriage accident along with his wife, Emily Carter, earlier in the evening. Their son, who has not yet been named, has been entrusted to you as his sole living relative.   
Please take care of him.’

-+=-=+-

The baby did not cry when William disappeared suddenly. Blue eyes only stared back at where he stood, cloaked from human view. William looked at him one last time before porting away, just as Amanda opened up the door. 

Tears fell in wild streaks down her face as she read the letter. Her grip on the boy tightened with each sentence, delicate fingers toying with the few brown curls gently. He looked so much like his father it hurt. With his wisps of tan hair that would grow into bouncy curls, his 

Amanda didn’t have a husband, didn’t have parents, and now she didn’t even have her brother. Her dashing, charming little younger brother and his caring wife. The three of them had been close up until the boy’s birth; when the couple moved into their own house. She had only seen the boy once, a days ago on the day he was born. They hadn’t decided on a name at the time. Though, there was a list they had given her of everything they liked. 

That night, with the boy still swaddled in the stranger's suit jacket, she searched through her purse for the list. It wasn’t hard to find; the cheap napkin sticking out against her other necessities. 

\- Edward  
\- Arthur  
\- Ray  
\- Otto  
\- Issac  
\- Edwin  
\- Oliver  
\- Allen  
\- Matthew

She crossed out the ones she felt didn’t fit, Edward, Arthur, and Oliver sounded too formal. Next, she crossed out the ones that didn’t sound good with their last name: Otto, Issac, and Matthew Carter were to difficult for a child to pronounce. Only Edwin, Allen, and Ray remained on her list when she made her decision. 

Edwin. 

Edwin Carter, her nephew, son of Alexander and Emily Carter. 

She spent the remainder of her night scurrying around the quiet house to prepare for the next day. Tomorrow, they would go to Alexander’s house to pick up Edwin’s clothes, toys, and crib. 

For tonight though, he would sleep swaddled in the stranger’s suit jacket next to her on the bed.


	2. Reapers and Windows and Friends and Closets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I just posted chapter one like yesterday but I already have a second. I just have a lot of ideas for this series.

Amanda’s efforts are not in vain. She leaves the now-abandoned house with 3 boxes of assorted toys, clothes, and any personal items she didn’t wish to donate. The authorities had reached out to her the following morning about Alexander’s passing, stating her and Edwin as the only next of kin. 

When questioned on why she already has Edwin, she lied. She didn’t want to, but she had too. “I had been babysitting him at the time. Emily and my brother were planning on going out on a date together, they...they never made it sir.” It slid off her tongue easily. The last thing she needed was to be arrested for kidnapping, even if it was a false accusation. 

So, she was able to take her position as next of kin along with Edwin. With her inheriting the property and the boy getting everything else. She was able able to become the boy’s legal guardian. 

The rest of her day was just as strange as the last, filled with setting up child furniture and putting away clothes and toys for her new son. 

The day passed quickly, playing with Edwin when he was awake and working when he wasn’t. The next day the same, and the next, and the next. 

Before she knew it Edwin was turning 1 and taking small steps around the house, spouting out the five words he knew at every chance. 

“Hello. Hello. Hello.” she heard that one a lot. Every time he walked into a new room, or woke up, or hadn’t seen her for a while. “No sleep.” Unfortunately, this combination was just as common as the first. “Yes” was regretfully rare to her, only happening half as much as no. 

The last one was strange, not its meaning, but the context. ‘There’ seemed like a perfectly innocent word at first. Until Edwin began to point to the sky every time. It happened randomly throughout the day, he would be rolling around on the floor when his head would snap up to look out the window with an accompanying choir of “There. There. There. There.”   
___

Alan’s reap was simple, no murder, or accident, or saddening disease, just an old man who’s turn it finally was to pass on. The soul wouldn’t be volatile, fighting him for a chance to live. No, it would go peacefully, content with a painless death. 

Eric wasn’t with him for the first time since getting a mentor. It was...strange to be alone in the mortal realm. Felt too much like before he had died. Still, he had a job to do. It was just as simple as he had imagined, the body dying quickly and painlessly in the midst of a dream, allowing him to hop gently out of the window just as he had entered. 

He chose to forgo the rooftops for once, enjoying the gentle breeze and smell of fresh-cut grass. His eyes wandered into the windows of passing houses, looking at all sorts of animals, children, and happy couples. The last house on the block wouldn’t have caught his attention, save for the small boy with his face smooshed against the window, wide blue-green eyes staring right at him. 

Not one to ignore a situation, Alan walked closer to the window and crouched down to the boy’s height. His action was rewarded with a bubbly laugh that brought a smile to his own face. They continued to play for a few minutes until Alan risked being late. 

It wasn’t until later he realised that the child had seen him. Actually seen him. While he was cloaked from human view. 

Alan didn’t take any reaps in the area for a while after that.   
___

Amanda stopped questioning Edwin’s behaviour after his second birthday. Playing it off as an overactive imagination to stop herself from worrying. She enjoyed having Edwin around, especially as he got older and his personality and appearance developed. 

The brown curls had grown into waves that sat above his ears while baby-blue eyes took on a green tint near his irises. He was bubbly and loud, laughing at everything and rarely crying. One of the only things he didn’t have was the ability to be shy and docile. 

Edwin would stomp and jump around the house and pass out immediately at night. Filling the house with stories and noises at all hours he was awake. 

At three, he picked up an obsession with colours. Telling her about every flower and picture he saw. 

At four, he started telling stories. Random tales about the people he sees before bedtime. 

At five, his interest in colours leads him to start painting. Her favourite one hanging on the wall. He had drawn himself with her and 4 of the characters from his stories. The red-haired princess, the tall and muscular knight, the frail servant, and the bored townsman. 

“Look! Look! It’s me, you, and the flying people!” His voice was high and childish, the words coming out in loud, quick shouts. 

The same year is when he starts attending the local daycare. Coming home to her and parroting everything he had heard throughout the day. Braiding in stories about his new friends. One friend was mentioned considerably more than the rest, James Moore, a recurring characteristic of her son’s anecdotes. 

“I want to live with James, can I when I’m an adult? Can I? Can I?” It wasn’t surprising, everything had been leading up to this she realised. Well, better to end it now than to draw it out. 

“But when you’re an adult you’ll live with your wife won’t you Edwin? She-“ he cuts her off like always, needing to inject his own ideas. 

“James can be my wife then!” 

As much as it hurts, she’s heard the stories of what happens to the men who dared to show interest in other men. She can’t let that happen to her son. “But James will have his own wife someday. Why are you so worried about this anyway? Aren’t you a little young?” He nods sagely like she had told him the secrets of the universe. 

It worked though because he continues talking about his day with fervour, explaining every detail he can remember. She tries to feign ignorance, tried to forget what he had said about his best friend. Even if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t blame him, wouldn’t be like the men in the papers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Down forget, I’m still taking requests for Fall Flower Fics on my Tumblr! ~<3


	3. Coloured Pencils on Sketchbooks

Edwin is seven when Amanda buys him a fancy sketchbook for his birthday. She knows he could use something that makes him happy after what happened last week.   
___

“Edwin, honey could we talk for a bit?” He looks over his shoulder from his spot on the bed next to her. She had been debating how to tell him everything for the last seven years. Ever since she got custody of him, she knew she couldn’t keep it a secret. 

“Of course Ma! What is it?” She cringes at the inappropriate nickname, how terribly timed it is. He had called her Ma since he was little, not knowing the truth. 

She breaks down before she can even begin. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him close to her chest. A string of apologies fell from her lips with each breath. His small hands press against her back comfortingly, encouraging her to go on. “I’m not your mother. She...oh Edwin, she died a long time ago.” 

The arms on her back retreat to cocoon the small body in her lap defensively. Still, she continues. “My brother, your father, died with her in a carriage accident. I promise I never meant to keep it a secret, I just couldn’t risk losing you. That night, you were dropped off by a witness. Didn’t leave his name or anything, just the suit jacket you were wrapped in.” Her sentences were punctuated with hiccups and gasps, eyes squeezing shut to stop the tears. 

“What were they like?” The frail, weak voice was so quiet she barely heard it. She could hear the tears that were pouring down his face from the tone. When she stopped to think he clarified. “My parents, what were they like?” 

“Oh, I have so many stories sweetheart to tell you. Settle down and get comfortable, okay?” The boy nodded enthusiastically, eyes still framed red and puffy from crying. “Your father, Alexander Carter, was an amazing doctor. He worked at the local hospital up until you were born. He had just started to work from home on occasion when he passed. He met your Mather at the hospital, he came home with a childish grin on his face when she began working there. Of course, she was just as excellent. Emily Carter was loved by the community even when she stopped her job as a nurse to pursue writing. Her first manuscript, that's like a first attempt, is still sitting around in one of these dusty old drawers if you're curious. Perhaps, tomorrow we can read it. How does that sound, sunshine?” 

She looked over at him expecting excitement in his eyes, only to be met with the calm face of sleep. His face was still littered with red lines and splotches of crying. That night, she brushed away his tears with a warm cloth, promising to be just as good as his real parents would have been.   
___

Edwin’s eyes are aglow with unsaid ideas, pencil scribbling down in ineligible thoughts only he could read. Every page was colour coded with a key only he would understand. The pages quickly filling up with every fact he had gathered. 

He knew from the moment he got the book he would write about the flying men outside the window. How they managed to dash back and forth on the rooftops in pressed suits. Except for one, there was one that was different. She stuck out against the businessmen with her bright red hair and dance-like movements. 

The first page after his notes was dedicated to her. Complete with a sketch and all the facts he could think of. He labelled the page with a nickname. 

Firegirl. 

The pages fill up quickly over the remainder of summer. There’s Stick, he’s always wearing the same suit and twirling around a metal pole with scissors on the end. Then next is Spike, the name isn’t based on anything, Edwin just thinks he’s a spiky person with his cool blade-knife. Lastly is Brownie, he’s always seen with Spike and he carries around something that reminds Edwin of the fancy knives he sees in the meat stores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the series ~<3


	4. Friendly Interactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter so I am get to the good stuff~

Amanda doesn’t worry herself with her son’s strange imagination until he comes home from school crying. His soft cheeks stained with red, wet lines. Just the previous week it had been all smiles and stories about the new girl in his classes. Now, he was barely able to talk through his violent gasps for air. 

“Sa-sah...Sasha,” his head fell into her knee when he no longer bothered to support his own weight. “She...she called me crazy! Said that- that the men in the sky aren’t real and that her daddy said that people like me need to see doctors. Are you gonna make me see a doctor Ma?” 

It was true that she had considered it. Now, however, it seemed cruel to even mention the idea. “Of course not sweetie; there’s nothing wrong with you. How about you tell me about the new girl in your class instead. Did you two talk again today?” 

His eyes lit up like candles, suddenly aflame with joy at the chance to talk freely. “Yeah, I did! We hung out during recess. James wasn’t there though. But Madeline didn’t seem to mind that much. She and I are best friends!” 

She smiled at the little boy perched on her lap. Even off the list of possible doctors was tucked away in her purse, she wouldn’t let them hurt him.   
___

Christopher Moore finishes the page with his signature and the day’s date. Double-checking the information from top to bottom. 

Patient Name: Edwin Carter  
...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry it's so short! ~<3


	5. Caged with the Key in a Gutter

It’s over a decade later that William meets the child again. He had forgotten about it, for the most part, content to pretend it had never happened at all. 

They didn’t meet again until the boy was ten. Ten and, to William’s surprise, locked in a confined room in an asylum. His eyes were looking past the door, past the wall, past the world itself. He debated reading the patient study on the door before grabbing it quickly.   
___

Patient: Edwin Carter

Age: 10 [M]

Diagnosis: Edwin often talks about phantom men that he sees outside. The characters are recurring and named in a personal notebook.   
Will often attempt to persuade doctors that the characters are real. Claims to have seen them his whole life. Highly unstable and should be kept away from older patients. 

Suggested Actions: Hypnotherapy, administered by Dr White. Strong Anti-hallucinogens daily. 

Signature: Christopher Moore  
___

Edwin can barely feel the clothes on his back after taking the meds they force down his throat. Can barely hear the hypnotist’s voice when he talks. It's all a blur in his mind. 

They talk about him a lot, he hears his name through the walls. 

The pills taste like salt,

The pills taste sweet,

The pills are sour,

The pill is savoury.

Are there even pills? What do they taste like? Isn’t it a shot they give him? 

Is that where the scars on his arms came from? Needles?

The long scars crisscross over his arms, where did they come from? Some of them look raw and red, others long healed. 

Why is there blood on his hands? Why was it under his nails, dripping down his palms?

How much longer would it be?

How long had it already been? A day, a week, a year?

His hair had long since become matte and dry, falling limp down to his neck without its usual ringlets. 

What could he do to make them stop? Would it be enough to lie, to say he had realised the flying men never existed? Would it be enough to pretend it had all been a dream? It was worth a shot. 

The next day when the nurse came in, he asked to speak with his doctor. His face was plastered with a fake smile that he forced to his eyes. “Of course, dear. I’ll have doctor Moore meet with you as soon as his schedule allows.” 

Two days. 

Two additional days of pointless suffering to see the doctor. Two days of anxiously waiting to lie straight to the man's face. To greet him with the same fake smile and explain how well the pills were working. Or, the injections? What were they even doing to him? The meds, the meds were working perfectly; that’s what he would say. 

“Hello there Edwin, how’s your day been so far?” Moore’s face wore the usual overly cheery expression. Edwin flashed a similar smile back at him, praying that it reached his eyes yet again. 

“It’s been great Dr Moore! The pills have done wonders. In fact, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. When do you think I could leave?” He contemplated mentioning how silly and unrealistic his ‘visions’ had been. 

“My boy, if everything is as well as it seems to be going, I say you could be out within the week. You aren’t seeing flying men anymore are you?” Edwin’s hands fidgeting behind his back. He had kept them out of view to hide the red gashes that we’re woven into them like thin threads. 

“Not anymore sir. I admit it was a little silly, thank you for helping me.” He smothered his words in charm he didn’t know he possessed. Praying to any god that would listen to let him out. 

“It’s my job boy! Now, I’ll go talk to the others about getting you out of here. It won’t be much longer.”   
___

Amanda got the letter three days later. It was wrapped in an old, yellowing paper and stamped with the hospital’s seal. God, let it be good news. 

Her eyes skimmed over the paper quickly, overjoyed after the first paragraph. Edwin was being released, her son could come home!   
___

Amanda notices the differences immediately. What had once been a mess of brown curls had become blackish clumps of hair; that stuck to Edwin’s neck the fireworks of lime in his blue eyes had faded into a sickly, clouded blur of dark green.   
___

Edwin’s room was just as he had remembered, the purple walls, small candles, and stuffed animals hadn’t been touched by anything, save a fine layer of dust. 

Even the bookshelf hadn’t been touched. It still hid his sketchbook behind the stack of textbooks. The sketchbook that he never wished to see again, filled with notes and drawings of men and women he never wished to see again. 

He wants to burn it. To see it crumble to ash in the fireplace while the metal rings slowly redden. Still, he doesn’t. He allows it to stay tucked away and hidden from the world. 

Destroying it won’t make them go away. 

Just like the pills didn’t either, he thinks as he watches black fabric sway in the light breeze outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five or, as I like to call it, when Edwin’s life goes to shit. Hope you enjoyed, next chapter is gonna be sooo fun >:) ~<3


	6. Fallen Angels are still Kids at Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another small chapter to connect the plot points that I actually do have

The sketchbook is hidden behind books for a year before Edwin, now thirteen finally finds it again while cleaning. He hadn’t forgotten, far from it. But the idea of ever looking at it again made him sick. 

The men and women still seem to dance in the air outside his window, though Firegirl was absent for a month or two. His mind still whirled with thoughts about them.  
___

“Mr Carter?” He doesn’t know why he flinches at the name. Doesn’t know why he wants to correct the woman in front of him. Correct her with what? ‘Miss Carter’ sounded just as bad. 

Flashbacks of the asylum echo like music. Everyone there was always so formal, using Mr and Sir. Unnecessary, all of it. 

She was a boy, always had been. He had never once been anything but. That’s why he hated the term, it didn’t feel right to her. It never had, they realised. Even back before the asylum they hadn’t liked it. 

Wasn’t it enough to just be Edwin?  
___

That night is when they finally open up the notebook again. Ignoring the first section that had long since been filled and flipping to the last page. Thoughts filled the page quickly. 

The thoughts had always been there, nestled behind joy and anger and sadness. A feeling of displacement and difference. Like something had always been off. 

The blanket is wrapped comfortably tight around them when they think of it. Like the last piece of a puzzle, one that makes everything perfect. They could be just Edwin. But, they could also be Eddelyn. 

Both pieces could fit in the puzzle and they both could do so perfectly. Eddelyn Carter could be the same person as Edwin just at a different time. This time, Eddelyn sounded perfect.  
___

While Eddelyn lived in one of the large buildings near the city with bustling carriages and happy shop owners, the towns surrounding it were much different. 

Houses were rundown and small, filled with families crammed into the minimal space allotted. Entire blocks were filled with adjacent housing. Only the odd clocktower or store stood out from the rest. Children would pour out of schoolhouses and back into damp, filthy homes. 

Teenagers would file off to poor-paying jobs to slave away for the remaining hours of the day. Only a few weren’t busy with work or chores or school. Of the few only was was easy to spot. 

A boy who had given others nothing but love and been shunned when it fell into the wrong hands. A boy who had dared to take interest in those that weren’t always of the fairer sex. For that, he would fall. 

Past the windows of his small town,

And the schoolhouse he had once attended,

And the small store he hadn’t walked into that day. 

He fell and he fell and he fell. All the way to the ground. Until his body ceased to move and his heart came to a halt. Until the pavement around his was stained red and screams filled the air. 

The grave they would eventually erect failed to mention their hatred of him. Pretending that his death had been a loss the whole town suffered. The same town that shunned his existence from the very beginning. 

Ronald Knox wasn’t a martyr. He wasn’t a misguided youth. He had thought about his decision for months. So, no, it wasn’t an accident or a pity. They had done it. The town had forced his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, got my boy in the story! Also, this should help to clarify when the story takes place (Grell had already been suspended) Hope you enjoyed ~<3


	7. There isn’t Men Outside the Window

The first half of the sketchbook remains firmly closed for multiple months. They still open the back pages to jot down thoughts and ideas but the front section is ignored time after time. 

They didn’t dare to open it, still pretending the pills had worked and it had been hallucinations from the beginning. The doctors had worked their magic like they always did and fixed the problem. 

Everything was fine. There aren’t men outside the window. 

It was just them and their Aunt. She would teach during the day and then they would eat dinner together when she got back. They lived a normal life, like everyone else. 

There aren’t men outside the window. 

It’s the middle of the week; Amanda is homesick for the day. Likely from the incoming cold front. Edwin spends most of the day preparing for it, stockpiling wood, food, and water for the pair of them. 

There aren’t men outside the window. 

Amanda is barely able to move around the next day. Her body cramps and spasms with each attempt. The pain gathers around her stomach and abdomen. 

That night, the sounds of their aunt suffering in the room over keeps them awake. 

There is a man outside the window. 

He can’t be older than 20 with his hair artificially lightened on the top. He is accompanied by a familiar redhead, guiding his movements from their perch on the neighbouring rooftop. Edwin debates digging past the stack of books to find the notebook and writing in the first section. 

It’s exactly as they had remembered it; the pages half-filled with sketches and half-filled with notes. They flip to the first blank page, sorting through an assortment of pencils until they find the right colours. 

His black suit is only partially filled to save time. The only fully coloured part is the boy’s face. He has the same glowing eyes as the rest of them with hexagonal lenses covering them. His hair is only partially brown fading to blond at the top. They note down what they know: an approximate age, hair colour, eye colour, the strange machine they carry around. 

The page is finished with a large title in their scribbled handwriting. Thinking of a name had always been difficult but it came easy this time. 

Swish.  
___

Eddelyn awoke the next day not remembering how they fell asleep. It is a ride awakening, filled with a stench of waste and sick. The windows had been opened at some point, slowly relieving the house of the smell. 

They peeked their head through Amanda’s bedroom door to be met by a barely distinguishable woman. Her skin had seemed to shrink and dark circles hung from her eyes. The only sign she was alive was the weak, rasping breaths she took. They were by her side in an instant to try and help. 

They couldn’t lose her too. She couldn’t leave. She was all they had. She had brought them in as a child, watched them grow up, even stuck with them when they were sick. They would do the same for her. 

She didn’t wake up when they came back after cleaning. The only difference was the blueish tint of her skin.

Her eyes didn’t open when they tried to give her water and food. 

There weren’t men outside the window. There was a man inside their house.   
___

His hair is slicked back and they recognise him immediately. His eyes are bright, glowing green and he carries around a metal pole. He’s easy to recognise. 

The third page of their notebook is covered by a sketch of his body and accompanying notes. The page is labelled in a child’s handwriting but still readable. 

Stick. 

He ignores Eddelyn and walks down the hall towards their Aunt’s bedroom. They know he can hear them, his ears perk slightly with every bloodcurdling scream. Still, he pretends that the screams aren’t directed at him. That the pleads for him to stop are simply coincidental. 

Finally, he turns to acknowledge the begging child. “Edwin Carter, please do not interfere. It is her time, It will not be painful. I promise you, she is already long gone. Stopping me will only lengthen the process.” His voice is monotone and distant. 

Eddelyn catches the small detail at the beginning of his monologue and the rest is blurred from worry. “How the hell do you know my name?” If comes out like a child’s scream, pleading and shaky. 

He doesn’t respond. He keeps walking down the hall. His hand pushes the door open gently. The metal pole in his hand rotates until the sharp end is aimed at Amanda’s chest. Her sleeping body doesn’t acknowledge the intruder. Eddelyn notices just how still she is laying. The scissor-like end of his weapon impales itself in her chest, just below her now-still heart. 

Beautiful, glowing strings flow from the wound and into the man’s hands. He watches the pictures being displayed diligently before folding them with perfect, unnaturally straight creases.   
___

No one arrives until it is already too late. The man was long since gone. Eddelyn tells them everything. What he looked like, how he talked, everything except where she knew him from. No one believes them. They all ‘him’ Edwin. Even if today they were Eddelyn. 

Everyone says it had been another unfortunate death from cholera. Why couldn’t they understand? Someone had stabbed her! Why didn’t they listen?

They talked to every man and woman that walked into the house. They put up with the false name. They described the man in perfect detail to anyone who would listen. They only stopped when the metal cuffs fell around their wrists. 

At some point, their file had been reviewed. Their time in the asylum had been put into the record in case of further disturbances. A man in a coat says with them in the living room while doctors wheeled their aunt away under a stark white sheet. He talked about how the vision had likely been a response to trauma. They didn’t listen. The words fluttered around their brain without sticking. It didn’t matter. 

“...Back to the Asylum for further review.” Their head snapped up at the words. They wouldn’t put them back in there, would they?

“I’m sorry, could you repeat the last part?” He looked at them with the same fake smile Dr Moore and the nurses would wear as they shoved pills down their throat. 

“You will be brought back to the asylum for further review.” 

No. 

No. 

Nononono. 

They couldn’t go back to the small room. It had been hell the first time, they couldn’t do it again. Anything would be better. Anything. Anything would work and there was only one option available. 

“Oh, okay. Umm, before we go could I go to the bathroom though?” News stories had talked about people dying from an overdose. It happened when the world became too much to handle. 

“Of course boy. I’ll be right here and then we can depart.” They couldn’t bring themself to get upset over being called a boy. After all, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. 

Nothing would matter when they found the body crumpled on the tile floor. 

They wondered how it would happen. Would the man in the coat look for them after 5, 10, 15 minutes and see it? Would the police search the bathroom one last time before leaving? 

No, the last face they saw was the same one they had engraved into their mind in the last few hours. His hair is slicked back and his eyes are bright, glowing green. He’s easy to recognise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying this! The next chapter is what the whole story has been leading up to ~<3


	8. It's Calmer in Death than It Ever was in Life

The void is vast and shallow all at once. It is small and deep, large and small. It’s white and black, colourful and monochrome. Eddelyn is floating. Edwin is falling. They can feel the void pushing and pulling at their body. 

It starts out as a whisper. 

Quiet nothings in their ear. 

Coming from nowhere and everywhere. 

The Voice is not loud or quiet. 

It just talks. Edwin doesn’t need to respond, it doesn’t pressure them to. It just spins tales of his life. Recounts old memories he had long since forgotten. A slight smile creeps onto their face for the first time in a while. 

It’s calm in the void. A type of calm they hadn’t felt in a while. No responsibility, no rushing, just stillness. 

They float in the same direction. The Voice gets louder as they get closer to it. 

There’s a time where the Voice goes silent, coming back later with a different objective. It takes on a direct tone. 

“Open your eyes. It’s over now.” 

Edwin doesn’t know how to respond. They don’t know what will happen when they do. The peacefulness is nice. 

“I like it here.” 

“I know you do.”

“I want to stay.”

“I know you do.”

“Do I have to leave?”

“Yes.” 

Finally moving feels refreshing. How long had they been still? Their joints groaned at the movement, too long it seemed. 

Opening their eyes revealed a stark-white room. There were blurs of colour along the wall that they couldn’t make out, one black and one red. They moved to sit up only to be met with a rush of nausea and 

“It’s okay. Don’t move too fast.” The voice was gentle and feminine; It likely came from the red blur on their left. “Here. Put these on.” 

A pair of wire-framed glasses landed in their outstretched hand. They blinked to adjust their vision, screaming when everything became clear. “Stick! You- you....how could you? You killed the only family I had left!” 

“Kid! Calm down. William isn’t here to hurt you.” The woman behind them by their waist to stop them from lunging at Will. Their breath comes in uneven pants as they struggle out of her grasp.

“Mr Carter-“ 

“Just Edwin.” They interrupt Will as soon as he talks. “Or Eddelyn. But don’t call me that. I don’t like it.” They receive a gentle squeeze of assurance from the woman behind them. The familiar face is a comfort when they finally look back. 

“Alright Edwin. I am William T Spears. I do believe we have already met.” He offers his hand out in a polite gesture. Edwin’s response is stiff and overly formal but it’s a start he thinks. “That is Grell Sutcliffe, she will explain everything. Grell, I’m trusting you here.” 

“It’s okay kid. I know it’s kinda scary but I’ll explain everything, sound good?” Edwin nods at the idea of finally getting answers. “I just have a few questions Will wanted me to ask you, and one of my own as well. Firstly, could I call you E?” Another nod. “Alright then E, is it true you’ve seen me before?” 

“Yeah. I saw you and Stick outside the window all the time. You guys would fly around like it was magic or something.” Their voice is monotone, the childish and upbeat tone long since gone. 

“Well, that’s new. Now, about that notebook Will saw in your record, what was that for?” She offered a smile that wasn’t returned. They continued to stare with the same dead, green eyes. 

“I would draw pictures of you guys on it. Some notes as well. I labelled all of them. Stick- or Will apparently, would have been one of the pages. You had one too. So did Swish and Spike and Brownie. I liked to take notes about you guys.” 

“Alright kid. Thanks for telling me. It’s time for the rough part I’m afraid. Please don’t freak out.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Informing the new recruits was always difficult. “I’m sure you remember dying. Well, you succeeded. Welcome to the Grim Reaper Dispatch Association, E. It is our job to collect the souls of dying humans every day. You’re one of us now.” 

She could see their breath hitch and tears threaten to spill. It was painfully obvious they had long since been broken, just like every other Reaper. “Oh. Well, I guess that’s what I wanted. It beats going back to the cage.” Yeah, the poor kid had already been shattered before dying. Grell knew the type well, it was all too common. A younger Reaper appearing with sunken eyes and an empty voice. One who only spoke when spoken to and never anything more. Grell only hoped she could help them as much as possible. 

“How about a tour, E? I can show you around the offices a bit.” 

“Okay.” 

She had to help them up slightly. Only backing away when they were finally standing on wobbly legs. Outside of the first room a hall with repeating doors as far as Edwin could see. The hall was empty except for them. 

They turned a few times before finally coming to a livelier section of the building. Not once had Edwin seen any windows. “The offices are over this way. Don’t worry you’ll get another tour and a map at the academy tomorrow.” 

He looked up at her with the same empty eyes she had seen on every other new recruit. “Academy?” 

“Yep, Academy. Starting tomorrow your training will begin. It takes a year to complete and then you’ll start having fieldwork. With a mentor of course. Here, I’ll show you to the training grounds so you can see what you’ll be doing in a few years.” From where they were to the outside wasn’t far. Every hallway was filled with men and women, some of them would eye Edwin with a pitying look when they saw them. 

The exit door was plain and just as white as everything else had been. Still, seeing the sun after hours of artificial light was a shock. They could feel it on their back, a comforting warmth. The smile that crept onto their lips was habitual. It didn’t escape Grell’s notice. 

Outside, dozens of Reapers were sparring with each other and dummies alike. Grell guided both of them towards the section she normally used. Pleasantly surprised to find two familiar faces sparring together. 

Both men turned to look at her when she came into view, eyes shifting to Edwin soon after. “Red! So, who’s this little fella?” Grell nudged her elbow into their back until they finally moved forward to introduce themself. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Spike. My name’s Edwin today. Sometimes it’s Eddelyn.” The taller two looked up at Grell for an explanation. 

“The kid has been able to see Reapers since they were little. Gave us all these cute little nicknames as a result. I don’t know about you, but Firegirl has a nice ring to it.” Edwin noticed the shorter man lean on his toes to whisper something to Spike before looking back at him with a grin. 

“Hello there Edwin, it’s nice to meet you too. You can call me Alan okay? Or if you had something else that’s fine with me. It seems like you go by they/them right?” Edwin's eyes brighten ever so slightly at the confirmation. 

“Yeah, I do. Thank you for asking. Oh, and it’s Brownie.” Alan shoots them a puzzling look before they clarify. “That’s what I called you. I don’t really know why.” Alan immediately pushes on to his toes to be equal height with Eric. 

“That’s so cute! Eric, guess what? My name was Brownie! Isn’t that just the cutest thing?” Eric looks down at him with an adoration Edwin hadn’t seen before like the sun and stars had gifted him Alan’s presence. 

“I can think of something cuter.” Alan mock punches him before turning away with his cheeks flushed a bright pink. 

“Alright E, time to go. It’s unprofessional to scar a newbie on the first day so let’s head somewhere else.” Grell guides them away from the same way they had come from. “I’m thinking the dorms how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, let’s go!” They’re lips crinkle at the edges, pressing into a smile that reaches to their eyes. It’s a relieving sensation, the freedom of enjoyment. 

They walk down the countless halls in comfortable silence. Punctuated only by the occasional question and answer. Grell slips the key Will had given her into their hand as they get close to the right door. 

“Go ahead, open it.” 

Inside is a small, 1 room apartment. The walls are a light-cream with wooden trim. Furniture was already dotted throughout. Their eyes fell on the corner, on the large white bed covered with a plush comforter. Immediately, they threw themselves down. The silk fabric had been cooled by the fan and felt like a dream under their body. 

“Relax and take a nap. I’ll come back when they start serving dinner. Oh, and you might want to check under the pillow. See you later kid.” The door clicked shut behind her. Their hands slid under the pillow, nail snagging on a metal ring. They pulled out a notebook. Their notebook. Still filled with childish drawing in the front and random thoughts in the back. The only difference was the slip of paper taped onto the front cover with elegant, looping handwriting. 

-+=-=+-  
I hope you don’t mind that I took my suit jacket back while I was at your house. I hope you continue to flourish even in the new environment. -Stick  
-+=-=+-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed ~<3


	9. Training Scythes are Small Enough to Play With

“When dealing with a stray demon in the mortal realm, it is crucial to work in a group. The beast will do whatever it can to trick you, don’t let it. Now, there are 5 minutes left before training, what have we learned today? Christian, you share.” 

The man on their right stiffened in shock. “Uh- umm... never attempt to fight a demon alone.” His voice was shaky and Eddelyn could tell he wished he was anywhere else, most of them did. 

Grell had conveniently forgotten how utterly boring the Academy was. Every day was the same; they would wake up, go to class, lunch break, more classes, a training period, and then finish it with one more class. Every. Single. Day. 

They had been doing this for six months now. End of the first semester was coming up at least, and the class’s first real break. Next week, absolutely nothing would be due and they could do whatever the hell they wanted. Which was sleep. 

“Alright, time for training. Change and grab your scythes, I’ll be outside.” A choir of ‘yes sir’s rang out through the room as everyone left to get ready. 

The locker room was loud and uncomfortably warm. Being filled with two dozen teens and adults in differing stages of undress could do that. Eddelyn changed quickly and was out the door before most of the crown was. They plucked a training scythe from the wall on their way out. 

The Academy’s training ground was similar to the one Grell had shown them on the first day a few months back. A flat expanse of nothing. Some of the students had already paired up and picked their spot for today. Like always, Eddelyn would need to wait. “You always beat me out here E. I’d have to sprint to keep up with you, I swear.” 

“You say that like I’m fast and it’s not just that you’re so slow. Same spot as yesterday I’m guessing?” The girl was a few years older than them physically; she had been 17 when she died. They had met on the first week when Mrs Thompson had them pair up for their first project. Kathy had, well...Kathy had certainly helped. 

They still owe her for that grade. 

“Obviously. Now, think you might actually win today?” She spoke in the same sarcastic tone, as usual, always needing the last word. 

They both took their preferred stance as Mr Hill counted down from 3. At the sound the whistle they pushed off towards each other. Kathy’s scythe blocking the continuous slashes Eddelyn started with. She held her scythe with confidence, knowing she’d get her chance to attack soon. It came when Eddelyn lunged forward an additional step, allowing her to shift the balance and leave them in a defensive position. 

Eddleyn could barely keep up with their quick attacks, dodging out of the way of the ones they couldn’t block in time. It was certainly closer than it had been the day before. Yesterday, Kathy had disarmed them in less than 5 moves. It had been won in just over a minute. 

Kathy’s stance was stiff and powerful, a sharp comparison to Edwin’s flowing posture and speed-oriented strikes. She planned on wining with pure strength alone. 

Edwin moved when the saw the chance open, swiping their leg behind Kathy’s ankle and kicking it forward. She fell to the floor quickly, landing roughly on her back with a huff. With the blade of Edwin’s scythe pressed against her neck, she was officially immobilised. One point for Edwin.   
___

“Now, before I release you guys, I have a list of the 10 recruits that have been cleared to enter the Retrieval Division. In order to qualify, you must’ve passed yesterday’s test and have a good combat record. Those of you that have been given this opportunity were assigned a mentor. Should you wish to choose a different division, please speak to me after class.” The whole class is strangely silent. As far as Edwin could remember, they all signed up to be tested. 10 out of 24 and Edwin had never been the best at combat. 

It had been Alan and Ron that convinced them to try out anyway. Both of them had seen first hand how clumsy Edwin could be but they thought they might have a chance. If they did make it, their second semester would be purely combat training and there wasn’t a better way to get better than practice. Plus, if they joined the Retrieval Division, they would be working with Grell, Will, Eric, Alan, and Ron on a daily basis. 

“If your name is not on the list, there will be a second chance at the end of the year. However, you will be required to take an additional 6 months of combat training. Now, when your name is called, please stand. Kathy Foster, you have been assigned to Senior Reaper Hazel Credge,” Kathy stood with a grin, her reddish curls bouncing at the speed of her ascent. 

“Madeline Harris, you will be working with Robert Gray,” Madeline stood as instructed, her hands fidgeting in her pockets when the class turned to look at her. 

“Evan Greene, you’re mentor will be Oscar Lane. Congrats you three, you were the highest-scoring students among us.” The class erupted in applause, still awaiting the last 7 students who had passed. “Now, the last seven. Are you guys excited? I might just draw this out a bit more.” 

When met with a displeased crowd, Hill chooses to finish up quickly. “Okay, okay. Thomas Wright, you are with Davis Jefferson. Ryan Walker has been assigned to Aaron Tilcott. Morgan Bennett, your mentor is Elena Stewart, oh I graduated with her. Edward Roberts, you’ve been assigned to Lincoln Reed. Luisa Beckham, Kathleen Crowl will be mentoring you. Tom McKinnon, you will work with Ivan Lette.” 

Only one spot was left out of ten. Edwin knew they shouldn’t have gotten their hopes up. You didn’t become a Retrieval Agent with mediocre grades. Maybe they would try again at the end of the year. 

“Lastly, Edwin Carter, you have been assigned to work with Alan Humphries starting in two weeks. Now get out of here, class is over and the break has officially started.” 

Oh

Oh. 

They actually passed. They actually passed the Retrieval Division Exam. They would be a Retrieval Agent. Holy mother of fuck they actually did it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~<3


	10. All You Can Do Is Dig Deeper Once Your At Rock Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!Read!!
> 
> Tw for this chapter:  
> -Graphic Poisoning  
> -Panic Attacks  
> -Graphic Violence

“That’s cheap and you know it, Knox!” The sound of rapidly pressed and released buttons filled the room, almost as loud as Ronald’s victory screech. Almost. 

“Yeah, Yeah. You’re just mad you lost again. One more round?” 

“I would but Mr Humphries is going to be back soon and we’re leaving as soon as he gets here. Plus, we already know you’d win.” He clicks his tongue in response, knowing full well they’re right. A sarcastic remark sits on their tongue, swallowed back by the knock at the door. 

“Ron! Is Eddelyn in there with you?” Alan called out from behind the door. “If they are, can you tell them to come on out?

“I’m here Mr Humphries! Be right out!” They scrambled to toss on a pair of shoes before dashing for the door like an overexcited pup. The telltale click of a beginner-scythe holster was the last sound Ron heard before the door to his apartment was slammed shut.   
___

“Alright Eddelyn, this is it. Are you ready?” Alan’s scythe was a heavy weight in his hand like the world was trying to get him to drop it. First reaps were a...unique situation for the Reapers. Everyone had one but the experiences would always vary. The act of spilling blood would be new to the poor junior. The smell of blood and death was an acquired taste. You couldn’t turn back once the cuffs of your sleeves and the soles of your shoes were stained crimson. 

Eric’s, he knew, had been pretty uneventful. One of the rarer cases of old age, lucky for him. 

Ron, however, wasn’t so lucky. He had come back to the realm practically vibrating and tucked behind Grell’s back. The man had been held at gunpoint and shot in the gut. Grell said that his last words were trying to convince Ron to spare him. 

Grell herself had enjoyed the experience if Eric could be trusted at least. 

Alan’s...well, Alan’s had been strange. To say he enjoyed it would be a lie; but, at the same time, it truly had been a turning point for the better in his life. 

Now, it would be Eddelyn’s turn to watch a body slowly pale as the eyes dimmer, to bring themself to severe the connection of a soul and a body. 

The man, barely older than Alan physically, was destined to die by accident after being poisoned. The man’s wife would spike his dinner with cyanide and, a mere 5 minutes later, he would go into cardiac arrest.   
___

Eddelyn was crouched comfortably shoulder to shoulder with Alan just outside the window. They both watched as the wife put on a ecstatic smile when the man walked through the door, handing him a bowl of soup with glee. 

When the man’s breath sped up and his body was wracked with spasms, Alan moved forward. Practised hands were quick to pick the small lock on the window, pushing it open when the man finally stilled for good. 

Alan helped the through the window silent as a mouse and just as quick. He nudged them forward from where they stood frozen at the windowsill. He watched them take a deep breath before finally taking a step forward. 

Pale, shaking hands tipped with bitten nails hold the wooden handle of Eddelyn’s scythe like a lifeline. They swing in large, practised arcs at the paper-thin records. Glowing memories landing in neat stacks at their feet. 

Eddelyn could watch the energy drain from their limbs, watch eyes that were once a dark brown fade into a murky blackish colour. The whole time, the dying eyes bore holes into their own glowing eyes, pleading silently for mercy. 

His blood was slowly dripping onto wooden floors from where he laid slumped on a chair. Before they had entered, the man could have been mistaken for a overworked husband. Now, however, the gashes that tore his suit into thirds to expose his inner organs were unmistakable.   
___

Eddelyn’s only instinct is to leave, run, hide. Anything to get away from the overwhelming scents and sounds. They can feel the metallic scent on their tongue like an iron weight. The sound of the man’s cinematic record tearing blares in their head alongside the steady dripping of blood. It’s too much. 

Their breath is coming too fast and too slow at once. Tears are threatening to spill from glowing green eyes. It’s all too damn much.   
___

Alan follows the sound of struggled breathing and smothered whimpers like a magnet. Only focused on finding the poor kid amongst the maze of city blocks and alleyways. 

He clicks the heels of his shoes louder than normal to tell Eddelyn that he’s getting closer. 

They’re hunched uncomfortably over their knees to hide their face with their back against the dead-end of an alley when the finally finds them. 

“Eddelyn? Is it okay if I come a bit closer? I know what it’s like, please let me help.” He keeps his voice even while awaiting a response, only moving when their golden-brown hair bounces lightly with a nod. “Do you want to vent or be distracted?” 

“D-distracted...please.” Eddlelyn’s voice is shaky and punctuated by small gasps for breath. Still, they look up at him with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks illuminated by the midday sun. 

“Whatever you say, E. By the way, do you know anything about the language of flowers?” Alan’s tone is tinged with a playful tone. Though, he still maintains the calm and quiet voice of comfort. 

He takes a few more steps before he can finally reach out to touch Eddelyn; his arms resting gently against their shoulder. Slowly, he slides his hand to their back and brings his other arm under their legs to lift them. Short brown curls fall against his shoulder when he finally starts to walk away. The hand at Eddelyn’s back slowly moves back up to gently sit against their hair, cupping them to Alan’s chest protectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not dead! I hope you enjoyed, next chapter out soon ~<3


	11. A Bed is Warmer When You Know You’re Safe

“Purpurite is probably my favourite.” Eddelyn can see what Alan is thinking. It’s easy when they’re this close. “Before you say it, no, it’s not because it’s purple.” They’re met with another knowing look. “Alright, it’s not just because it’s purple. That’s just a key part of it. It’s actually associated with acceptance and can help to repair mistakes. I used to have a little piece of it on my desk back...before.” 

Alan is quick to sense the conversation going awry. “It’s like common primrose then. They mean a lot of the same things!” The tension that had risen all too quickly slowly began to settle and lessen once more. He can see Eddelyn’s eyes fly over the buildings absentmindedly. Their body is still pressed tight against his chest in a light embrace as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop. There’s a portal to their realm just a few blocks away. If he can make it there without the conversation collapsing, the rest is easy. 

Judging by the remorseful look in their eyes, the last few blocks are adding up to be the most difficult. “Mr Humphries, I’m so sorry...I know that-“ 

Alan’s face is uncharacteristically upset when he suddenly interrupts. “Stop, don’t you dare start having some sort of pity party. This happens to everyone. Well, except for Grell. Hell, even Will had a difficult time!” His voice softened when he finally registered his outburst. “Just...please don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to apologise for, Eddelyn.” 

The rest of the trip is spent in silence. They cross through the portal quickly, Alan lessening his hold on the teen slightly closer once they arrive on the other side. Their eyes continue to pass from building to building as though following an invisible rope. It’s only when the tall, white brick skyscraper appears behind them that hey finally talk again. Albeit, in a quieter voice than normal. “The dorms are back there. Just drop me off.” 

The older man looks down at them with a front smile upon his face. “I’m taking you back to my place. It’s a lot comfier than one of those little pods.” He can see a look of silent apprehension cross their features before being replaced with an acceptance that draws from fatigue. 

“...okay.” Their eyes are closed before their head even presses against his arm.  
___

Alan kicks the door impatiently, staring holes through the doorknob. “Eric, can you get the door for me?” He can see it turn quickly from the inside a few moments later. Eric’s face poking through the door with a loud greeting prepared before Alan kicks his shin to stop him from yelling something quite possibly obscene. 

“What happened, are they okay?” Eric’s voice is surprisingly quiet and gentle, a side he didn’t show very often. His eyes were soft under blue lenses, crinkled with worry at the edges. The door squeaks open as Alan steps inside next to Eric. 

“They’ll be fine.” Alan’s free hand comes up to run through Eddelyn’s hair protectively, combing it down their neck in golden bunches of curls. “I’m taking them to the guest room, think you could start a warm bath?” 

“Of course, Al. Here, let me help you.” His hands make quick work of the blood-soaked laces, sliding stained shoes onto the designated rack by the door. 

His shoes are left in a heap at the entryway, leaving him to hop up the stairs towards the guest room in socks. 

___

Alan gently taps the sleeping child awake, watching in silent joy as feathery eyelashes parted to reveal innocent eyes. Quickly though, childish innocence was replaced with knowing guilt as memories surfaced. Alan knew that look. Hell, every Reaper knew that look. 

They all wore that look on a daily basis. When their clothes were stained with someone else’s blood and the smell of death hung like a cloud around them. 

It’s a look of grief. 

A look of defeat and anguish, paired with tears that threaten to spill. 

“It’s okay, Eddelyn. Eric is just down the hall drawing a bath, you can borrow some of Ron’s clothes that he left here. They’ll be big but it should be fine.” He puts the teen down gently, giving them time to balance themselves before pulling away.   
___

The warm water is a pinkish-red when Eddelyn finally steps out with newly cleaned skin. The dried blood in their pores replaced with flowery soap. 

Ron’s clothes seem to drape over them like a curtain, the sleeves falling nearly two inches past their fingers with pants to match. The black graphic tee with the name of some character Eddelyn’s never heard of that wears some ridiculous looking blue mask with ear-like spikes on the top. The outfit was finished with a pair of oversized sweats and Eddelyn could officially say they would never look more out of place.   
__

Downstairs, Alan and Eric were huddled around the small island in the kitchen. Alan nursing a quickly-cooling mug of tea while Eric busied himself around the stove. “What are you making over there?” 

“Wish I could answer that, luv. But unless you got any ideas I’ll just stand ‘ere and look busy.” 

“Oh! I’m so to interrupt.” Ron’s clothes dragged along the floor with each step, trailing behind Eddlelyn like a royal’s cape. A look that makes the kid look younger than they are. 

“Nonsense, kid. I’m just about to start cooking, you wanna help?” They perk up at the mention of food, swiping still-wet hair from their face. Short light-coloured curls had become dark and straight, falling to their shoulders when forced to lay flat. 

“Sure! What are you making?”

“Whatever you wanna eat.”

Eddelyn stilled with a deep look in their eyes, burdened by such a prominent choice. “Pasta...”

“Sure, sounds great. I can get the ingredients if you can flip the stove on. Any special additions?” Eric is already rummaging through the pantry when he hears the fire flicker to life on the stove. 

“Cheese!” The decision is easy, especially compared to the previous one. Eric hums in approval and digs out the rest of the ingredients. “Lots of cheese.” 

Eddelyn works on mixing flour, water, and eggs in a large bowl while Eric boils water and pours oil into a pan on low heat. 

Alan watches the domestic scene with a gleam in his eyes from his spot in the attached living room. Like Eric, he had long since discarded his suit jacket; his silver tie sat discarded on the coffee table. 

The pair works in a comfortable silence punctuated by the sounds of pepper grinding, knives cutting, and socks padding about on tile floors. 

Finally, the pasta is poured into a large bowl and mixed with sauces and cheese before Eric places it at the centre of their small dining table surrounded by three bowls. 

The conversation is quiet while they eat, small stories filling the air like clouds. Eddelyn occasionally adding small remarks and giggles. 

It’s just as their dinner is ending that the child finally is drowned by a wave of solemn realisations. Eric is quick to notice, “Are you okay there Kid?” 

“I just have one question I guess, what should I do now?” Their voice is quiet and wispy, trying to be unheard. 

“Well, for starters you’re staying here for the night, the last thing you need is to be alone right now.” The older Reaper’s voice is warm and paternal in a way Eddelyn had never experienced. Commanding only because he knows what’s best for them. 

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to intrude any more than I already have. Thank you though.” Their arms are still at their sides, boxing their body in like armour. 

“You should stay here Eddelyn. I know the last thing you probably want is to be all alone in the dorms.” He knows. He knows all too well. The night of a first reap is something that every Reaper struggles with. 

“Yeah, Al’ ‘n I wouldn’t mind a bit if you stayed.” Eddelyn’s head perks up at the reconfirmation from a second source, slowly considering the idea. 

“Oh, Okay then. I guess I can for one night. Thank you so much.” Their voice is already working its way back to the chippy, quick tone that Alan associates with them. 

“And as for what you can do next, we’ll just keep training. The first reap is difficult for everyone, don’t be embarrassed about it. For the rest of the semester, you’ll be with me on weekdays and then accompany me on any weekend reaps that I might have. That’s all there is, okay?” Alan works to keep his voice even and explanatory, forcing out any room for misconception. 

“Yep, sounds good. Thank you again, for everything.” He can tell the voice is fake. It’s too cheery for the situation. It’s too much of a sudden change from when they had just begun to sprinkle emotion back into their words from their breakdown. Still, he doesn’t comment on it. He knows how nice a facade can be.   
___

The air is heavy around the pair of Reapers from where they stand just outside of a townhouse. The window is cracked to allow the bedridden man the illusion of freedom from his confinement. He can hear voices drift in the wind like fallen leaves as his last breath nears. 

“Don’t worry, E. Just remember that you’re saving the soul from harm by doing this, it’s better to be reaped than to be eaten after all.” He can see the silhouette of a young man followed by a child no older than one of his own grandchildren. 

“Yeah, okay. I guess you’re right. That makes sense and all-“ The voice is young and naive in a way he knows is an exaggeration. A cover for the sake of comfort. 

“You’re rambling, just do it.” 

“Yeah...yeah. Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry (not really) for the cliffhanger. If you want to see more of me and my works, follow me on tumblr @DeletedBecauseShy 
> 
> I hope continue to enjoy the story ~<3


	12. Spilt Blood Doesn’t Have to Be the End. But, It Will Be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thankfully, it’s not as angsty as the title sounds.

The man’s blood dripped down the wooden hilt of the junior’s default scythe. Red rivulets merged together to run across pale skin. A metal blade sat snugly between his ribs, bringing with it a wet splash when pulled back out. 

The air is filled with the sound of deep, forced breaths and empty whispers. A small thud flies through the air when Alan stamps the man’s page as completed a little too forcefully. “Good job. Ready to head back?” 

“Yeah...just, gimme a minute.” Alan only nods in response. He doesn’t comment when he watches the small teen gently close the man’s eyes and adjust his hands to lay neatly over his chest. He doesn’t comment when the same child bows their head down respectfully for a moment before finally getting up. “Okay. Let’s go.”  
___

“So, how’s Kathy been?” One of Eric’s newer recipes sits between the three of them on the too-small dining table. His voice breaks the comfortable silence carefully, trying to pry Edwin from their stupor. “She’s with Hazel, right? A right talented lass that one.” 

“I’ve still been training with her during class. She’s doing fine.” They spoke in a monotone voice, devoid of any of the ticks or quirks Eric had become accustomed to. Like watching a hollow shell, the body seemed unusually empty. Not as bad as it had been before, just...neutral. 

Edwin was a wave with high crests and deep troughs, a mixing pot of contagious laughter and infectious trauma. The hearth of a room’s atmosphere, for better of for worse. 

Seeing them act so impassive was strange. The kid had a dial that swiped between 2, 3, and 10 with no in between. Alan can sense the kid drifting away, disassociating. Like a boat lost at sea, drifting farther and farther out into the black abyss. “You’re Death Day is coming up in a few weeks. Do you want to celebrate?” 

“My what?” 

“Death Day, its our version of a birthday. Since we’re Reapers everything has to be incredibly gruesome and pessimistic, obviously. Anyways, we tend to celebrate the day we became Reapers. Something about the Empress, Death, and the Star, Grell’s always been a lot more into it that I have. To be honest, it’s just an excuse to party.” His hand waves in dismissal of the bigger idea, content to enjoy it for what it really is, a party. 

“Oh. I guess we can celebrate then. Umm...what day is my Death Day? I don’t exactly remember.” It was sheepish and strange to admit. Forgetting one of the most life-changing dates of their life like nothing had happened. 

Alan looked at them knowingly, it was common for junior Reapers to have some faults in their memory for the first few days and some of the last moments of their life. Almost certainly a trauma response. Still, he didn’t mention it. “Don’t worry. It’s April 3rd I believe, I’m normally pretty good with dates and all that.” 

A lie. Alan’s memory was as spotty as he was stubborn. He only knew it from talking with Eric and Grell about it a few days back, it was hard to plan a party alone after all. Eric gave him a look from across the table, knowing full well Alan forgot what day of the week it was everyday except Saturday. “Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s in, what, 12 days?” 

“Yeah I think so. But, what do you normally do? Is it like a birthday party?” Their head tilted in question, still not grasping the rather strange idea. They were met with nods and affirmation, barely enhancing their understanding.  
___

“Morning, E! What’re you feeling today?” Eric’s voice was far too awake and energised for the early hour. Like one of the early morning sunbeams gently splaying across the floor from the window. The room smelled of coffee and eggs, of morning. Only the two of them were up, Alan still stretched out across the bed upstairs. 

“Oh. Umm,” they thought for a second before answering, mentally cataloguing what felt right at the time. “Eddelyn today, thanks for asking.” 

“Alright Eddelyn, go ahead and sit down, I’ll bring out breakfast.” True to his word, Eric brought in two plates of eggs and toast just as Eddelyn pulled their chair in. He sat them down across from each other before returning to the kitchen. “Want anything to drink?” 

“Do you have orange juice?” 

“Of course, I’ll get you a glass.” He comes back with a mug of coffee and glass of orange juice as promised, forks and knives held haphazardly between his fingers. 

Eddelyn had taken to eating toast before being given a fork, quickly changing to devour eggs instead. Eric does the same. 

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.” The older man raised an eyebrow in question, curious about what could make the kid so timid. He nodded. “Why did you, you know, die? You don’t have to answer!” 

“Calm down, don’t mind. Well, it was about 40 years ago now, don’t give me that look, we’re all old. I was 27 at the time and the past hadn’t been all that fair. Poor family, bad job, far away from home, I had it all. I moved south to London when I was old enough, up north just wasn’t enough for me. Eventually, it just got to be a bit too much. I’m lucky, this,” he gestured around at the house, “is a whole lot better. Your turn now?” 

Eddelyn blushed at the idea, not expecting Eric to ask about their own past, or to explain his. Still, fair is fair. “Well, when I was real little, like a few months old, my parents, Alexander and Emily, got into an accident so I lived with my Aunt. When I was old enough to, I would draw pictures of some of the Reapers I would see. Surprisingly, the government don’t too much like when you see people no one else can see. They sent me off to one of the Asylums in downtown. Pumped me full of the strongest stuff they had, I was only 10 at the time.” 

Eric can see them debate going on. How the memories replay in their head as they look for the right words. Suddenly, 5 years seemed like a long time ago. “Eventually, I faked my way out of there and pretended everything was fine. It was, really. Until my Aunt got sick a few years later. I can,” they stopped to take a deep breath, “I can still see the way her skin was pulled over her skin too tight sometimes. When she finally died, god, there was so many emotions pouring through my head. When Sti- Will, when Will showed up I screamed until I couldn’t, I couldn’t imagine loosing her.” 

“Kid. Stop if you need too. I know how hard it is to relive everything.” His voice was tinged with guilt. Almost enough to cover the underlying curiosity at how it would end. 

“No, no. It feels good, like, really good. To just say everything. When the men showed up to take her away, I told them exactly what I had seen. How one of the men outside the window had killed her, how I had seen it myself. They thought that the trauma had obviously caused me to slip, said they were gonna take me back to the Asylum. After that I lied and said I needed to leave really quick. I went to the bathroom and swallowed everything in the cabinet. I couldn’t even feel my fingers by the time I saw Will.” Their smile was unnaturally happy given the circumstances, their breath came easier. 

Eric didn’t respond immediately, processing just how much the poor child had gone through a year ago. Well, almost a year ago. By the time he finally thought of what to say, Alan had started down the stairs towards them, noticeably happier when he saw the kid’s change in mood from the previous day. 

He gave Eric a questioning look, curious about what could’ve helped the boy so quickly. Eric responded with a shrug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head on over to my Kuro fandom blog on Tumblr for more of my stuff  
> [Shinigami Dispatch Association ](https://shinigami-dispatch-association.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and Kudos improve my declining mental health! ~<3
> 
> (That’s right, we got working links now baby!)


	13. Wrapping Paper, Bows, and Some More Wrapping Paper

“You know, you’ll have to pick your scythe soon. Any ideas yet?” Their morning had been slow, Edwin sitting around Alan’s office before their scheduled training time. 

“A few. I’ve been thinking about an axe but it doesn’t seem quite right. I know Kathy is dead set on a sickle, she’s known for a whole though. I don’t know, I guess I’ll decide when it gets a bit sooner, you know?” They thought about it for another second before adding, “I did see a weird advertisement a few days ago that was pretty funny. It’s rubber gloves with little claws at the end for digging, I know it’s stupid; but, I kinda liked the idea.” 

Alan gave them an understanding look before responding, thinking about how he had chosen his scythe so many years ago. “If you like it, go with it. I think the Idea is pretty smart, honestly. Though, if you do decide to go with gardening claws, we should probably practice hand to hand a bit more.” The child’s face lit up at the affirmation.   
___

365 days ago, Edwin Carter died of an overdose. Around 100 days ago, E Carter was assigned to be Alan Humphries’s first mentee. 20 days ago, Eddelyn Carter took the life of a young man who had been poisoned by his wife. 

Now, E Carter was surrounded by a strange assortment of immortals connected by fate to die by their own hands. All of whom were there to celebrate Eddelyn. 

Colourfully wrapped packages were strewn about the floor of their small dorm, all waiting to be unwrapped. 

Eddelyn was sat front and centre in front of the crowd, talking casually with Kathy and Grell while Alan and Will sat watching contentedly. 

Finally, Eric came into the room with the homemade cake. He set it down before pulling out a lighter and looking at the rest of them for approval. Met with approval, the wax candles danced to life as he dragged the flame across them. 

Immediately, the room was alive with voices singing in various tunes. Even Will, Eddelyn noted, was quietly humming along. When they finished, Ron was the first to drop a strangely shaped object in their lap. 

It was wrapped messily with sparkling paper and tied with a bright blue bow on what they assumed was the front. Nevertheless, the opened it excitedly, unveiling plush black and white fabric large glittery green eyes. The plush was shaped like the old stories of Grim Reapers Amanda would tell him on All Hallows’ Eve, complete with a small scythe in its tiny hands. “Ron, this is the cutest thing, I love it.”   
-  
The boy looked as though he was about to reply when Kathy pushed him aside to drop her own box down with a loud exclamation. “My turn!” 

The new box is thin and long, complete with an obnoxiously bright pink bow on the front. They peeled it back to reveal multiple sheets of stickers, from ghoulish to glittery. Immediately, they pulled off one of the top ones, a possum, and stuck it on the girl’s cheek before she could move back. Her eyes were still wide when they pulled back to look at it.   
-  
Will, thankfully, didn’t have as much fanfare with his gift. The notebook and coloured pencils were in a small bag covered by a thin layer of tissue paper. On the side of the bag was a small note, one with Will’s elegant cursive handwriting inside of it. ‘I hope you enjoy the supplies. Your old notebook was quite the fit. I wish you could’ve kept it.’ It was the signature that made Eddelyn blush though, Stick. Damn him for being accidentally hilarious.   
-  
Eric’s was just as emotional, the card and keychain neatly bringing them to tears yet again. The card was something only Eric would think of, complete with a pun and covered in doodles. The keychain though, it was special. The tumbled purple mineral wrapped up in thin metal wire. It jingled when the attached key moved, when the key to the house they had stayed at a few nights ago moved. “Key...you?” 

Eric chuckled at that, speaking slowly as if talking to an alien. “Yes. Key, me. Mine. House.” He accented his attempt to communicate with hand gestures, pointing to the key, himself, and their surroundings.   
-  
Then there was Grell’s gift. Wrapped in blood-red paper and tied with a crimson bow, it took them a second to figure out how to actually open it. They were rewarded for their effort with two smaller boxes. 

The first was filled with a variety of nail polish colours, brushes, and stencils, from white to black and red to purple. 

The second they didn’t even have to open. The model pictured perfectly portraying what was inside. With hair that curled around their shoulders, it was easy to see the bright purple colour of the dye.   
-  
Last but not least, Alan pushed a small box toward them. It was wrapped in black paper adorned with small skulls and hearts and was barely bigger than their palm and only a few centimetres tall. They carefully opened it, slowly revealing a small silver box with a matching lid. Careful hands pulled the lid off, bringing to light a shiny silver skull attached to a small hairpin. It matched the tie Alan wore around his neck perfectly, down to each black coated eye and sculpted tooth.   
__

While everyone else left with congratulations, Grell stayed behind. She remained sat upon one of the chairs until it was only her and Edwin left in the room before digging through her purse and pulling out a small bag. “I didn’t want to give this to you in front of everyone else. I also wanted to talk to you a bit,” she offered the bag to them, eyes softening in acceptance when they opened it. “I’m savvy to all the best brands, I used to use the same brand before I got my surgery.” 

They opened it to reveal a layer of colourful tissue, effectively hiding delicate fabric. Their hands eventually pulled out a small, thinly padded bra, complete with purple-patterned straps and soft elastic support. It wasn’t thickly padded, just enough to fill out their occasional dress in a decidedly feminine way. “I-oh. Thank you, so much. I love it. Give me just a second, I wanna try it on.” 

They rushed out of the room quickly, drifting in their socks at the sharp turn into their bathroom. A few minutes later, Grell once again watched them skid around the corner in a noticeably different shirt. 

It was one she had seen them wear before, maroon red with a large cat print on the front that hung off their shoulder and sat low on their hips. Now, it was accented by the purple straps clinging to their shoulders. Eddelyn, the smart, cute little 16-year-old, vibrating at a frequency unknown to man. They gave Grell a second to look at it, along with a little twirl, before spouting out any version of thanks that came to mind. 

Eventually, finally, Grell was able to get them to sit back down. The kid was still twitching with excitement but Grell would manage. She had one last thing she wanted to talk about before leaving. 

“On a more personal note, and feel free to stop me if you’re not comfortable, did you ever figure out how you want to be addressed? I know your not a fan of Mr and Ms but I do know some other options.”

“No...I never really did figure it out. Everything just feels so strange when I think about it.” They bit their lip in thought, “So, I try not to think about it. I mean, Eric always asks for my name in the morning; but, other than that, I guess I never really did anything. I- um...what are the other options?” 

She shoots him a sympathetic look, well aware of what it was like. “Well, there’s Mx, M, Per and Ind. I’m sure I can think of some others though. Do any of those sound good?” 

They mentally scrolled through the list; Mx Carter, M Carter, Per Carter, and Ind Carter didn’t sound correct, they shook their head. “No, not really.” 

“And that’s fine. It can be difficult, I just want to help as much as I can. Oh! What about Misc? It’s like miscellaneous.” 

Misc Carter, they liked the sound of that. “Misc Carter, I like it. I like it.” Grell nodded at their excitement, overjoyed to see them look so comfortable and happy. 

“It sounds good, I’m glad you like it. Now, I know a non-binary secretary down in Personnel that could probably help you with the paperwork. I’m sure they’d be happy to answer any questions too, just head to the Personnel Division and ask for Eden Murray.” Their head tilted in confusion. Though, the excitement to meet someone like them was obvious in their shining eyes. 

“Non-binary? Like, ones and zeroes?” Grell laughed at that, taking a second before she had finally stopped long enough to answer the question. 

“I don’t know a whole lot, you’re better off asking Eden. But, someone who’s non-binary just doesn’t feel like a boy or a girl, or maybe they feel like both, it all depends. It’s an umbrella term so there are subsections as well, it’s also under the Trans umbrella so there’s that as well.” They nodded along, caught on every word like they were hooks. 

Already they had made a plan to seek out Eden to talk with them as soon as possible. If they happened to be late to training on Monday, then, what a coincidence that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head on over to my Kuro fandom blog on Tumblr for more of my stuff  
> [Shinigami Dispatch Association ](https://shinigami-dispatch-association.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and Kudos improve my declining mental health! ~<3


	14. Fluid as the Quartz-like Water

Alan waits at their designated meeting spot for half an hour before his phone finally rings with an alert. Eddelyn hadn’t said a word since he dropped them off at the academy earlier in the day. 

‘Can’t make it, busy, sry. TTYL!’ 

He can’t help but to think that the child might just be the death of him, again. Still, they make up for it.   
___

Eddelyn bounced down the halls of Personnel like an over-eager puppy. Scanning the small plate beside each door before moving to the next. The secretary had said something about taking a left , then a right, two more lefts- no, two more rights. Or, a straight? They couldn’t remember exactly. 

So, they were content to wander the halls until they either found Eden or circled back around to the secretary. 

It took a while but, eventually, they did run into another form of life in the barren halls. They were just inserting their keys into one of the seemingly endless doors when Eddelyn came up to them. 

“Oh! Hi there, do you work here by any chance?” The older Reaper stood a full head taller than them, with short-cropped black hair and thin, wiry glasses. 

“I do, lost are we?” Their accent was inarguably American, with a southern twinge Eddelyn associated with the cowboy characters in Ron’s current favourite video game. 

“Yeah! I mean- yes, I am. Sorry, I’m a little excited. Anyways, do you know where I could find Eden Murray? Grell sent me, said they could help.” They tried to at least suppress their overwhelming excitement. They failed; but, they did try. 

“Well, aren’t you a lucky li’l thing? You know, I think I do know an Eden Murray. Oh, and you can call me Eden, Eden Murray. What can I do for you today?” They smirked at their own wry joke, clearly enjoying the situation. “Here, I’m just getting back from the cafeteria. Join me in my office?” 

They walked through one of the doors Eddelyn was about to check, waving them in expectingly. “My name’s Eddelyn by the way, sometimes at least. Grell said you could help me figure that out though.” 

“Grell’s finally taken in a stray, huh. Can’t say I’m much surprised by that. But she’s a whole lot better with the whole ‘gender’ thing than I am. I just float between the lines if that makes any sense.” It did. They could relate, kind of. Eden’s statement was met with a nod nevertheless. 

“She sent me because I also don’t know about...well, anything really. I mean, I go by Edwin and Eddelyn and everyone calls me them and I liked that but it still isn’t right. Does that make any sense?” The older Reaper chuckled at them, eyes wrinkled at the edges. 

“You’re making sense and then some, kid. I don’t know a whole lot but, yeah, I can help you. First off, have you ever thought about just, like, using both? You use two different names so why not two different pronouns? There’s-“ they cut them off abruptly, too impatient to wait for their turn to speak. 

“That’s a thing, I can do that‽ It’s like, Woah...you know? Like, damn, I didn’t even know that was an option.” Their glowing eyes were blown wide with excitement; the chair they were sat on vibrated and creaked with each of their little, erratic movements. 

Eden’s smile widened at their joyful reaction, happy to help them figure themself out in a way no one had done for them. “Of course its an option, everything is an option. Gender is a social construct built by the same old, white men who invented taxes and the 9-5 workday.” They spoke as though reciting a quote, and something they had clearly quoted before at that. “Oh, and it’s called Genderfluid if you wanted to look into it, sick flag. Basically, you just kinda change whenever you feel. Like, imagine there are two boxes. Grell stepped into the other one, I’m lying on the floor outside, and you keep jumping between them like you’re avoiding the inevitable confrontation you’ll have to have with yourself if you ever stop. Make sense?” 

It took Eddelyn a second to process all the new information in front of her, especially the weird metaphor. “I- yes? I guess, I think. Sure. Thank you so much, Mis...” 

“Ah, normally I’d say Mx Murray but just Eden is fine, kid. By the way, shouldn’t you be in class? You’re clearly still a student, your glasses give it away.” Eddelyn’s face reddened at the thought. Alan was probably expecting her. Or, had been expecting them...30 minutes ago. 

“I’m not skipping class, promise. I’m a Retrieval Student so it’s all pretty hands-on. That saying, I should probably get to my mentor and tell him what happened. Thank you so, so, so much.” Eden waved away the praise, content to help without any credit. The kid was cute and small and kinda helpless, that was enough for them. 

“It was nice to meet you, Eddelyn. Stop by anytime. I’d love to talk again.” 

“Will do! Have a good day!” Her voice was barely louder than the door opening and slamming shut behind her. Mentally, Eden added ‘energetic’ to the list of reasons they had been drawn to the kid.   
___

Alan didn’t see Edwin in-person again for three days. He finally sees them in a heated discussion with Othello in the middle of Grell’s office on his way to return one of the books he had borrowed a few weeks ago. Words flew between the two like incessant bugs, from one to the other and back repeatedly. 

He picked out words like ‘carbon’, ‘pressure’, ‘structure’, ‘magma’, and ‘lustre’. He was sure he only knew around half of the words anyways. 

“Edwin, Othello, hello.” He slowly eased the door open, “is Grell here or have you two taken up refuge in her office without her?” Instantly, two sets of eyes flashed toward him with a troublesome gleam. 

Othello spoke first, “She just left for a refill. Should be back any min-“ 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Alan,” Edwin eyed him with a mischievous look in his eyes, “why are so many people convinced that diamonds are expensive and important and all that?” 

He stopped for a second to think. Was it supposed to be an obvious question? It wasn’t. At least, not to him. “Because they’re rare? People like rare things.” He thought that the two people in front of him couldn’t get any scarier, that was naive of him. Both of them seemed angry and in disbelief at his answer. 

It was only when the both looked at each other for confirmation did he realise they hadn’t been fighting. No, it was worse; they had been in a passionate discussion and one that he walked straight in the middle of. 

“You fool!” Both of them were in perfect harmony, only splitting off when Othello decided to explain a bit further, “they aren’t rare at all! People, mortals, just hide them away to hike up the price.” 

“Yeah!” Edwin was, unfortunately, just as passionate as Othello it seemed. “It’s all fake! Diamonds are supposed to give you strength, strength the people hiding them away are gonna need if I ever get my hands on them!” 

“I’m glad you two are so passionate about this; but, I really just need to talk to Grell.” Speak of the devil and she’ll walk in on 5-inch heels. 

“What do you need, darling? Actually, no, don’t talk. First, look at this ring I bought, it’s diamond.” 

Alan felt like he could scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Head on over to my Kuro fandom blog on Tumblr for more of my stuff  
> [Shinigami Dispatch Association ](https://shinigami-dispatch-association.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments and Kudos improve my declining mental health! ~<3


	15. Fine, but Only for Tonight

“So, Eddelyn, did you ever figure out what you wanted to go by? I mean, you skipping out on an entire day’s practice must’ve come with something good.” Both Alan and Eddleyn were seated around the small table in front of the kitchen. She had begun to spend a good amount of time at his house after the first few nights. 

“Yeah, there’s a few I like. Grell helped quite a bit as well. She even has most of the paperwork finished to change my file from ‘Mr’ to ‘Misc’. There are some others I’m not sure about though.” Alan gestured for them to continue, so they did. “Well, I don’t know if I like boy or girl more. I definitely don’t like man or woman at all.” 

“Okay, how does this make you feel. E is the boy I mentor. E is the girl I mentor.” They say there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out what they felt. 

“I like the first one. Second one, not so much.” 

“I’m just happy to help. Is there any others that you were having trouble with?” 

The two of them continued well into the hour, eventually figuring out what they were and weren’t okay with. She liked being called boy, dude, and lady; but, nothing else seemed to feel right. 

Eric arrived home just in time for them to test out daughter vs son. That had been a confusing scene to walk into to. Though, he didn’t miss the boy’s slight blush when Alan called her his daughter. 

“Eddelyn, it’s getting late. You might as well just stay the night.” Alan agrees to his statement with a nod and a look towards the clock before adding on. 

“Yeah, and don’t worry, I went ahead and washed your clothes from last time.” Rationally, she knows they wouldn’t mind, might even enjoy. But she still didn’t want to intrude too much. 

Trying to remain at least somewhat distant, they finally decided how to respond. “Fine, but only for tonight.”  
___

The next day, after waking up and leaving with Alan and Eric, everything seemed fairly normal. Edwin met with Alan for a reap in the evening and went back to their own apartment afterwards. 

At least, until Alan texts them that Eric is making pasta again and they’re free to come over if they’re interested. 

Well, the food at the canteen is pretty bad, and it is a free meal, one free Eric meal at that. So, when they show up a few minutes later, who can blame him?

And after the meal, when the sun has long since set and the transport between their house and the school dorms are closed for the night, he is left with no choice yet again. “Sorry for keeping you so long, E. Do you want to just stay the night again?” 

“Sure; but, only for tonight”  
___

It’s a week later that is finally happens again. Up until that point, Edwin had been too busy with paperwork the academy was having him complete to spend much time with Alan outside of their reaps. At least, until he finally ran out of paperwork. 

Which, to Alan, was something to celebrate and so they yet again found themself in a place that was very much not their small dorm, and, like almost every other time they were at the other house, the question of whether or not they were staying was inevitably brought up. 

But, unlike the last few times, they were quick to answer. Deciding that it really wasn’t intrusive if the other people offered it, he accepted great fully. 

“Yeah! Only for tonight, though.  
___

It’s one of the few times he and Kathy have been able to spend together ever since the second semester started. So, just like they would while taking study breaks, they’re both cramped onto the small bed in Edwin’s dorm playing an old-style fighting game that wouldn’t be released or invented for another century at least in the mortal realm. “Did you ever end up asking that girl out or nah?” 

“No! I didn’t! She was so cute though! I’m still mad about it, totally missed my chance.” Kathy is no less of a disaster lesbian than they remembered. Their current helpless crush is one of the interns down in forensics. 

“Missed your chance?” He’s hesitant to ask about her, not wanting to unleash an unstoppable wave of all of Kathy’s thoughts on the matter. 

“Yep! I had the perfect chance, then I ruined it. Ran into her when Hazel had me delivering some paperwork before one of our reaps. We were talking, oh her voice! Okay, yeah, so we’re talking and she said something about being free the next day and I just panic and don’t ask if she’d like to, you know, spend it with me. Maybe?”

“Kathy, dear, you are hopeless. You know that? Absolutely hopeless.” He is about to continue berating her when their phone rings. “One sec, Kath. I gotta take this.”

“Hey, E! You busy?” Alan’s voice is distant through their phone. Edwin still didn’t exactly understand all of the new technology; but, it was pretty useful. 

“Not at all, Mr Humphries. What’s up?” 

“I already told you, just call me Alan. Anyways, I’m here with Hazel and we’re wondering if you and Kathy wanted to go on a reap together. Me and Hazel have an assignment late this afternoon. Unfortunately, it's very late so you two might be better off just staying over.” They lean away from the phone to talk to Kathy. 

“It’s Alan and Miss Credge, they’re wondering if we want to go on a reap late at night, also offered to let us stay over.” She nods approvingly at the idea and Edwin shifts back towards his phone. 

“We’d love to!”  
__

“So, at what point should we just go ahead and move your stuff in here, E? I mean, only if that’s what you want obviously.” They were sat on one of the assorted couches with Eric during one of their rare off-days. Alan was still happily passed out upstairs. 

“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Oh, and I think it’s an Eddelyn type of day.” It had become one of their own little habits, Eric asking them how they were feeling whenever he made breakfast. 

As always, Alan trailed down the stairs as soon as Eric had finished cooking, yawning and stretching before sitting down. “‘Morning..?”

“Eddelyn.” 

“Eddelyn. ‘Morning Eddelyn.” His hair is still tussled from sleep; his glasses lay skewed on his face. 

“Aw, come on. No good morning for me?” Alan shot his boyfriend a glare; though, it lost any threat it had when combined with the rest of his sleep-mused look. 

“You stole the goddamn blankets again! I had to grab another spare. The only way I can ever forgive you is if you make me a coffee. Oh, and a plate of breakfast too.” Eric, forever the pushover when it comes to Alan, is quick to agree. 

“Fine, deal.” He starts scooping eggs onto the plate before adding some of the pancakes along with butter and syrup. 

“Forgiven.” 

“Good. Now, Eddelyn and I were talking about maybe moving some of their stuff into the spare room. Thoughts?” He takes a second to eat before answering. He, apparently, wasn’t the only one aware of just how much time the kid was staying with them. 

“Yeah sure. I think Grell wanted to come over as well, she can probably help.” Internally, Eric is already planning out how they can help the boy move their stuff out of the small dorm. 

When he heads out the door for the mail with his jacket around his shoulders, he swears it’s the most sensitive he’s ever felt. His mind is acutely aware of the little black box in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if it's obvious, but I'm really not happy with the chapter introducing Eddelyn. Since then I’ve started messing with my own gender so much it’s stupid. Anyways, Head on over to my Kuro fandom blog on Tumblr for more of my stuff  
> [Shinigami Dispatch Association ](https://shinigami-dispatch-association.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I fucking love comments guys! ~<3


	16. Counting Purple Sheep (mini-chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaahhhhhh, I’m so sorry this is so late! I promise I only kinda forgot about this series, just a little! A smidge!

Grell’s gloved hands were gentle and exact with the bleach, coating every strand of Eddelyn’s gold-brown hair evenly. Although careful as she is, it does still itch and sting the boy’s scalp. 

Eddelyn can’t help but feel relieved that they had chosen to do it at their barely used dorm instead of Eric and Alan’s place; there are small drops of bleach on the floor already, Grell hadn’t even opened the dye yet. 

But, it’ll be worth it. So, so, so worth it. She can already imagine how the dye will look afterwards. Just the thought of how it will flow down their shoulders excites them. 

Purple is just so....perfect to her. Plus, it would shine with a metallic tint once it dries. Not that they’re at that step yet, the bleach was still sitting in their hair uncomfortably. She could feel the woman finish the last section as she massaged the bleach in fully at the roots. 

“And....” Grell drew out her voice, “done! We just need to wait about 30 minutes and then I’ll help you wash it out.” 

While they waited, Grell periodically massaged and scratched the boy’s scalp to help keep the dye from irritating the skin to the point of pain. At some points, she could swear the boy’s eyes closed and her lip’s quirked up slightly in a blissful calm. Touch, she noted, was definitely something they could use more of in everyday life. 

Her phone chimed loudly when the timer ended; she went away for a basin to use quickly. When she got back, they situated themselves, the chair, and a table within the reach of the shower’s faucet. 

It took a while, Grell slowly waited the light purple colour of the bleach was lost to the water before towelling the now-blonde hair completely dry. 

~

The dye smells strangely fruity when Grell finally snaps off the tip. Like when someone puts sugar on berries, they think, It’s really nice.

It’s also very cold on their scalp. Not painfully so, but it’s definitely not something she would recommend. 

The purple is applied carefully to each individual curl, coating it evenly. Grell’s practised hands are swift and effective with the small brush. 

Soon, they are once again left to wait patiently for the alarm to sound. “45 minutes,” Grell had said. “Then you’ll be able to wash it out.” 

~

Like before, the alarm rings out obnoxiously before Grell can move to turn it off. Only now, it’s accompanied by much more hyperactive twitching and impatient muttering by Eddelyn. 

The boy bounces towards the shower quickly, hopping up and down lightly in excitement on the way. 

~

The water runs a deep purple for nearly five minutes before it finally begins to clear. By then, Eddelyn’s skin is also tinted a slight lilac shade from the incessant dripping; it’s nothing rubbing alcohol can’t fix, though. 

When they finally step out, it’s with an influx of steam. As soon as they open the door, Grell is on them to help. Deft fingers work each strand through neatly before drying them with a special dryer head that she had briefly explained would help to keep their hair curly. 

~

Finally, finally, she hands them a small mirror; she almost cries on the spot. Their hair had always been shiny, almost golden in the light. But now the glitter shone through even in the room’s poor lighting. 

Purple ringlets fall down to the nape of his neck like springs. When they move their head experimentally, it’s with a bounce of curls around their face. 

In the back of their mind, they see Grell leave the room quickly, mumbling something about finding ‘it’ on the way out. When she does come back, they understand fairly quickly. 

She pins the left side of their hair back with her nails before sliding a cool piece of metal into place. The small clip separates their bangs helpfully. Though, they wonder how it looks. 

It only takes a slight tilt of the mirror to be able to see it clearly, as soon as they can, they can’t help but comment. “Oh... oh!” It all comes together. 

Right above their temple, a familiar metal object sits firmly in place. The silver skull stands out against the sea of dark purple clearly, the black-coated eyes even more so. “What do you think?” Grell asks. 

It takes a second to form an actual response. When they finally do, it’s only barely coherent. “I love it...” Eddleyn says slowly. “Thank you so much!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see some more of my work, check out my Tumblr exclusive fics on my, you guessed it, Tumblr. I’m not putting the link here cause I can’t be bothered but it’s at the end of the last chapter. I hope you continue to enjoy ~<3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 1! The next one will be out real soon. Don’t forget, I’m still taking requests on my Tumblr! ~<3


End file.
